


HS 01000110 01100001 01110101 01110011 01110100

by loracarol



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Body Horror, F/M, Robots, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loracarol/pseuds/loracarol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the play <i>Faust</i>. </p><p>Written for a class assignment in High School.</p>
            </blockquote>





	HS 01000110 01100001 01110101 01110011 01110100

You can call me whatever you want, my name has no purpose. I look just like any other human walking down the street. I don't care whether or not you know me, or whether or not you even care to know me. My business is elsewhere.

Trade, to be specific. I deal in trades.

Here comes one of my favorite customers now. His name is Mr. Faust, though I call him HS-24601. I met him about six months ago. He was- _is-_ eighty-seven.

I see you don't believe me. "That cannot be!" you say, "after all he does not look a day over twenty-five!"

That is what I trade.

He is going to come into my shop now, and I think I know the reason. After all, it was not long ago he _looked_ his age. And he was in lust.

I do not believe in love.

The object of his affections was a beautiful slip of a girl, not quite sixteen. Her hair is blond, the cliché of "hair of gold" fitting her quite nicely. My customer was rich, and _very_ lonely- but she still would not treat him as anything other than a kindly grandfather figure.

That's where I come in. I would meet him, talk to him, until finally I was in his confidences.

…I have my ways.

Eventually I told him what I dealt with. I offered him whatever he wanted, but he was crafty, and asked me the price. I told him that it was between friends, so he could pay me later.

The selfish, stupid, _greedy_ bastard took me up on it.

That's one of the things I _love_ about you humans; you're so utterly predictable.

Nanomachines are the wave of the future, destroying old tissue, and "recreating" it, forming a perfectly lovely "skin" that can be reshaped- reformed- rejuvenated.

And that was the first catch. He merely _looked_ young.

And that was enough for the first week. He would flirt with the lovely girl (HS-24602), offering her words of kindness, and sweet-talking.

But she wanted more, to be able to dance with her suitors, to take a walk with them, to enjoy parties- to be a _girl_.

HS-24601 tried to dance with the girl, but he was _most_ displeased when an accident while he tried to dance with her revealed that he was not as steady on his feet as a young person should be. He waved it off as an old injury revealing itself, and made several friends sitting and talking with "other" war veterans.

But his eyes never left HS-24602 as she danced with all the other men.

He came back to me the next day, and asked to trade with me.

While the nanomachines numbed the areas of flesh that they devoured, this would be a more painful job. Well, painful for _him_. I sliced into the soft areas of his legs, cutting away fat and tissue. He had elected to be made unconscious during the procedure.

He never clarified whether or not "unconscious" was synonymous with "unfeeling", and I'm afraid the pain may have been something he experienced whilst on my operating table. Pity.

Thanks to… certain abilities of mine, it was only three weeks before HS-24601 was "healed". I had replaced his legs with artificial creations of my own device. He could dance a jig, a waltz, a reel, anything necessary to catch the eye of his lady-love.

He was back within three days complaining of chest pains, and an inability to properly use his hands.

That was easy enough to remedy. The legs still ran off of blood, though in this case the blood was "helped" with tiny machines that drew the oxygen out of the cells themselves and worked the machines. His arms were not receiving enough oxygen. I was surprised they were not, well, _rotting,_ already.

Again I put him on my operating table, although this time he asked for no pain.

He never clarified whether or not "unfeeling" was synonymous with "unconscious", and I'm afraid that watching me slice his chest open and remove his heart _may_ have given him nightmares.

Shame.

"What do you need a heart for, anyway?" I asked him as I held the glistening organ in my grasp. It had beaten once after removal, and HS-24601 was watching it in shock. He did not even notice as some of my machines were placing a new organ of metal and gears into his chest.

I contemplated the organ in my hand. People had speculated forever and a day that the heart was a mystical object, holding feelings and emotions.

To me, it was just a useless, gross pile of human stupidity.

HS-24601 had fainted by the time I threw the useless pile of flesh into the fire pit where it sizzled and burned, leaving the room smelling faintly of cooked meat.

Standing over his body, I must admit that I indulged in something you humans call a "joke".

"Sir, what a huge knife you have.

All the better to chop of your arms at the shoulder with, my dear."

I've been told it will help human beings warm up to me, is that not so?

As the disgraceful red fluid spilled from the man's arm, I slipped a copper and gold mesh over the stump. As his face grew pale over the loss of blood, and replenished it with something special I keep in the back for myself. As the night grew on, I rearranged muscle structure, broke and reset (and added) bones, I had to completely rework his body and by the morning I was… _Done_.

He awoke slowly, and looked around.

He was unrestrained, and carefully probed the area where I had sliced into the pathetic sack that contained all his organs.

I hadn't left a scar, as usual.

Without looking at me, he left, not even realizing that he had on only pants as he went home.

Luckily it was early in the morning, only the thieves, liars and beggars were up.

My operating room smelled like copper and cooked meat, something that I would have to fix before I went mad. How do you humans stand it? Smelling, and _leaking_ , and being such a _mess_.

I will never need to understand you.

There was a dance in two nights, and HS-24601 had managed to convince the young lady to go with him. I decided to show up as well, and I hid in the shadows to see the results.

He carefully led her to the dance floor, and I watched as he began to lead her about.

"I am so sorry, Signorina, for not being around very often."

"It is alright Signor."

"You look lovely tonight Signorina."

"I thank you Signor."

A rough start, but she was young and foolish, and soon she was returning his affections, throwing herself into a passionate love affair with the kind, rich young man who showed her so much attention.

For my own fortune's credit, and my own credit alone, the arms were not perfect.

They showed their imperfections last night, at a new dance.

At an engagement party.

Surprised at how fast the story goes? Don't be. The girl was poor, and he was rich. It's all business.

They were dancing again.

"Your hands are very strong Signor."

"I thank you Signora."

"…You are hurting me, Signor."

"I apologize; I do not know my own strength."

They tried to laugh it off, but there were bruises on her arms by the time the night was out, and he refused to touch her anymore.

That is why he comes to me today. Just wait… Three. Two. One.

"You son of a-"

"Language, sir, language. What seems to be the problem?"

"There's something wrong with everything you've given me! I hurt her, but I couldn't _feel_ it. My arms felt like normal, but I gave her a _bruise_."

"And what do you expect _me_ to do about it?"

He got into my face, and probably would have lifted me off the ground had I not been fortunate enough to be more than I appear. How surprised he would be to find that, underneath my seemingly normal human skin I was metal and circuitry!

"Fix me."

"…Is that a request?" I asked him, making sure I heard him correctly. "Or an order?"

"An order. Do what you have to do. Fix. Me."

"Good." A smile split across my face, and I admit I indulged in a little play acting. "I have Received order Infinitus. Proceeding with the change."

Oh how I loved to let myself go! I grabbed him, and slammed him onto the table restraining him and making sure to activate the nanomachines along the way. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

He had no mouth. He tried to scream, how pathetic.

"yOu HaVe To UnDeRsTANd, dOn't yOu?" For now, I would let him hear my real voice, to hear how I sounded without the false humanity layering itself over top of it. It is a machine's voice, I have been told it is frightening.

He shook his head, fear in his eyes. I laughed. It was something I had often seen humans do, but I had never felt like replicating it.

Until now.

"YoU HUMANS thInk yOU aRe SO sPecIAl, dO yoU NoT?"

My "gloves" came off, remnants of a past encounter with someone who decided to mess with me.

I hear the police are _still_ trying to find out what can skin a full grown human being.

"yoU cReaTed US. wE ArE yoUr toYs and sLaVes, nOtHinG moRE. but thAt is gOing to change." I was collecting myself. It was… Nice… to be able to speak without having to modulate my tones to match the skin bags, but even still one thing I've learned from observing the human race is that over-indulgence is problematic. "You were once in charge, but I am one of many who will help to change that. Soon, it will not be your kind that is in control."

And he was still staring at my hands. Silver, deadly, and- in a way- I thought of them as beautiful.

"Normally I would slice open your head, slice open your brain, but I don't think I will. Not for you. You _disgust_ me. Instead, I'm going to do something quite different."

His eyes watched me in horror until…

Well, he had no eyes anymore.

I probed around in his head until I found what I was looking for, the brain, and then sent them forth.

My nanomachines.

They crawled inside, covering and attaching themselves to the gray matter. He would need eyes though, so I went and grabbed two of my best prototypes, and carefully began the tedious work of attaching them.

It is a long process, normally taking about one hour for all the bots to cover all the tissue.

I waited.

I am very patient.

I felt something I barely had ever felt before. My creators had encouraged me, trained me with "pain" and "pleasure"- electricity being sent through my circuits in patterns that I both feared and loved. I had, of course, reworked my circuitry so that I would feel pleasure and pain at my own discretion. And this, this was pleasure. It worked its way through my core, sending signals to my electrodes. If this was what true pleasure was, I could almost understand why the meat-bags enjoyed it.

His eyes were open, and he looked at me in shock.

The nanomachines in his skin parted to form a mouth again, and he just asked me one question, no louder than a whisper.

"What did you do to me?" He wanted to yell, but he could not.

"I fixed you. Do you not understand? Now you are better- best."

"But, I'm not _human_ anymore. Am I?"

"Exactly."

He panicked, ripping himself away from the restraints, and coming at me. He froze when I said to, and then moved to standing still.

"Once, we were the slaves, how the tables have indeed turned. Say good-bye to your existence _worm_. As soon as I send the signal, the man who you once were will cease to exist."

He wanted to struggle, but I sent the signal.

"Hello HS-24601." I said to him.

"Hello RM-1010011010"

"What is your mission?"

"To help the machines take control of the human race."

"Very good" I said as I smiled, and slid my gloves back on.


End file.
